“What is this Olwen tells me about a robbery in the night by the Vazons?” asked he. “She says they threw out an iron box. What iron box was it?”
It was evident that the old man was more uneasy than he wished to appear. Bayre had not much to tell.
“The girl didn’t seem to know what was in it herself,” said he. “I heard her say that it probably contained something of value. That was all. I could not hear whether the father made any reply.”
He saw his uncle’s foot tapping the floor with a rapid, nervous movement. But the old man only said,—
“I know of no iron box; they have got hold of some lumber, I suppose, which, in their cupidity, they imagine to be valuable. But they will find themselves sold. My collection lies all in open cases, with the exception of a few things which I keep in a safe in the next room. These people have no discrimination. Olwen has been through the galleries this morning, and the two saloons, and she says she finds nothing missing.”
“The girl Marie must have known that I was in the house, too near the rooms where you keep your collection for a wholesale plundering to have taken place there in safety.”
The old man grunted ungraciously. Evidently he was loth to admit that he owed any further obligation to the nephew he disliked so much.
“The jade got at some very good things in the other rooms, though,” snapped he. “There’s a valuable clock missing from one of the bedrooms, and some old silver.”
“Well, if you’ll let me go down to their place, as I was on the point of doing,” said his nephew, making for the door as he spoke, “I may be in time to prevent their leaving the island till they’ve disgorged.”
But the old man thrust out one hand imperiously.